


Sojourn 1

by SolitaryVulcan



Series: Sojourn [1]
Category: Star Trek
Genre: Gen, Nova-class, Original Starship, Science Vessel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2020-01-06 14:45:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18390530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SolitaryVulcan/pseuds/SolitaryVulcan
Summary: This is the first story in what I'm hoping will be many. While I like to play in the Star Trek universe, I have chosen to create a new ship and crew: the Nova-class science vessel USS Sojourn, manned by my own OC's, many of them Vulcan but with enough non-Vulcans to ensure that things stay lively. In this story they are asked to ferry a group of civilian passengers to Vulcan, where the ship is scheduled to pick up its remaining crew. It should be a fairly routine maiden voyage--but routine doesn't make for a good story, so naturally things don't go as planned.





	1. Chapter 1

_Stardate 47068.2_

As she approached the solitary figure framed in one of the windows, Captain Anwal's lips tugged into a wry smile. At 5'-9" she was not accustomed to feeling short, but that was the feeling that settled over her as she came to a stop a couple of feet behind the Vulcan's right shoulder. He was the quintessential Vulcan: tall and lean, with dark hair and dark eyes, and a face that was all sharp angles. They were nearly of an age--in their latter 50's both of them, which for him was still fairly young. For her it meant dark hair liberally streaked with grey, and a great many more fine lines than she'd had even five years ago. From here, she could see her new first officer's expression in his reflection in the transparent aluminum itself, his gaze distant and...displeased, perhaps. She shifted her gaze outward to the ship at drydock-- _her_ ship, one of the new _Nova_ -class, a small and sleek science vessel. "I know she may be small, Commander, but she's state of the art and hardly worth _brooding_ over," she said softly, dark eyes glittering with humor as she regarded his reflection.

Vinak drew a soft breath, his posture straightening ever so slightly, as if roused from deep thought. "Vulcans do not--" be began, in the dry and somewhat distracted tones of someone accustomed to uttering such words often. He cut himself off abruptly as he turned his head, a flicker of recognition crossing his features. "Captain." He turned to face her fully, putting his back to the window. "I apologize, I did not realize--"

She held up her hand, to forestall any further apologies or explanations. "Quite all right, Commander. I wanted to take this chance to meet you before boarding...and couldn't resist a small joke while I was at it." She'd worked with Vulcans before--she _would_ work with many of them on this next assignment--and had found them almost as varied as humans in their responses to such concepts as humor. Her new first officer seemed, at first glance, to be the more serious sort...though it was entirely possible he just needed time to settle in. "Let's start over. As you no doubt know, I'm Captain Manjeet Anwal. I look forward to working with you, Commander."

"Commander Vinak," he replied, inclining his head slightly. "I look forward to the opportunity. The _Sojourn_ is a fine ship, and what I know of the crew so far is...encouraging." He lapsed into silence, but Anwal knew the look of someone considering their words, and waited until the silence stretched past the point of being comfortable. "I have heard that you are considering Lieutenant Lhir of the _Endeavour_ for Ops," he finally added. Though not framed as such, she heard the implied question in his words.

What remained of her good humor drained from Captain Anwal's expression. They'd _had_ an Ops Officer lined up, and a Chief Medical Officer. But both had perished en route, their shuttle caught in an ion storm that had proven much more potent than anticipated, leaving them short-staffed and scrambling to find replacements. "I am," she confirmed. "She's highly qualified, perhaps not so much in areas of propulsion--but her work with sensors and the computer itself is quite promising." She paused, curiosity creeping into her tone. "Is there some concern about her suitability, Commander?"

His brow knit ever so slightly, and there was another long pause before Vinak spoke. "She was a student of mine in a couple classes at Starfleet Academy. I was not convinced that her nature was... _compatible_ with a life in Starfleet."

Anwal smiled wryly as she contemplated those painstakingly considered words. "To be fair, Commander, the role of Starfleet Academy _is-_ -at least in part--to mold cadets into Starfleet officers. To judge her based solely on who she was in the Academy would do all of us a disservice. Her performance aboard the _Endeavour_ has been exemplary, according to Captain Amasov."

Vinak nodded, his gaze distant as though still deep in thought. "I will have to familiarize myself with her service record," he said. "I was unaware until today that we'd taken her into consideration for the position."

Anwal nodded. "The files are available to you, along with those of our other candidates. We've been moving with some haste, and Lhir's attendance at tomorrow's science conference in San Francisco created an opportunity." She tilted her head slightly, looking up at the Vulcan. She was tempted to ask if he had a personal reason for not wanting to offer her the position, but this was a good opportunity to gain some insight into _his_ character as well. She preferred not to micromanage a new crew; she gained a tremendous amount of insight simply watching how they dealt with a situation. "You are attending the conference as well, are you not?" she asked. At his answering nod, she continued. "Then I'll leave it in your hands. Make whatever arrangements you see fit."

 

* * *

 

 _Sojourn's_ crew was two-thirds Vulcan; out of deference to them, environmental controls were set closer to Vulcan norms. Captain Anwal had known as much when she'd taken the assignment, but knowing and experiencing were two different things. She was no stranger to heat, and actually preferred it to what she'd felt was a slight chill aboard her last ship, but the increased gravity caught her off guard as she boarded. She was glad she'd sent her luggage ahead by transporter, so that she did not need to juggle that while grappling with the sensation. _You knew what you were getting into_ , she reminded herself.

Fanfare was not her style, and so she'd chosen to board early so that she could be settled before the bulk of the crew. It was only a single security officer who waited around the bend to greet her, and as her gaze flicked to the pips on his collar she drew up in surprise. "Lieutenant Commander Sovinn. I didn't think you'd be seeing to new arrivals personally."

Sovinn arched a brow in mild surprise. The Vulcan was in many ways Vinak's opposite--average in height and built along more solid lines, his hair a light brown and eyes a surprising shade of green. Anwal found him less intimidating, lacking the intensity she found in some Vulcans, a curious quality in the man who was to serve as her tactical officer and chief of security. "I could hardly decline to greet the captain myself," he said, holding out a PADD. "Transfer of command codes is already complete, though I recommend updating them at your earliest convenience."

"Thank you, Commander," Anwal murmured, taking the PADD with only a cursory glance at it. She had no doubt that everything would be in order. "I heard you've taken quarters on deck four," she said, a questioning lilt in her tone. "I would have thought you'd have put yourself on deck one over Ensign Pral."

"I considered it," Sovinn admitted. "Though in the end I chose a more central location, given my role of chief of security. I felt that from deck four, I could reach both the bridge and engineering with equal efficiency, should a security breach occur in either location while I'm off duty. As Ensign Pral's duties take place solely on the bridge, it seemed logical to place him closer to it. Though as the ensign has not yet arrived, I could still make adjustments if you think it best."

Anwal smiled. She knew damned well what 'if you think it best' meant; he might as well have said 'if you want to fly in the face of all things reasonable'. "No, Commander, I trust your judgment. Is my luggage in my quarters?" she asked, heading for the lift. As she'd expected, he fell into step beside her.

"Yes, Captain," he replied. "I should also mention that Starfleet has assigned a new Chief Medical Officer. Given the short notice, we've been asked to pick her up at Vulcan rather than wait for her to come here." They stepped into the lift, Sovinn holding back slightly to enter behind her.

"Oh?" she asked, before lifting her chin to cast her voice upward. "Deck one." Her gaze settled once more on Sovinn's placid features. "Who have they assigned?"

"Commander T'Vel," he replied...and that was enough to send both her eyebrows climbing toward her hairline.

"T'Vel? I thought she'd been offered a prestigious position at the Vulcan Science Academy, and was set to retire from Starfleet." Though nowhere near a Vulcan's retirement age, T'Vel had served in Starfleet for several decades, certainly as long as any human member of the fleet. The lift doors opened, and Anwal stepped out into the corridor without missing a beat. "Is this a permanent assignment, or is she just filling in until a replacement is found?"

"Permanent, so far as any posting can be described in those terms," Sovinn replied. "I confess that I was surprised as well, though I doubt that she's actually declined the position at the Science Academy, but merely postponed it for a time."

"Right," Anwal murmured softly, slowing to a stop in front of her quarters. "What's another decade or two, to a Vulcan?" She smiled, casting a glance sidelong at him. Though, perhaps it mattered _which_ decade. She was actually more surprised at his presence aboard, given what she'd gleaned from his record--freshly returned from a year long leave of absence, he'd left a wife and infant son behind to return to his duties.

"Vulcans are not immune to the passage of time, Captain," Sovinn replied, and something flickered in his gaze briefly, as though his thoughts had turned the same direction as her own, for a moment.

She did not remark on it, or inquire further--Vulcans were, if she knew anything about them, intensely private people. No doubt his decision to serve again, aboard this ship, had been made for reasons which satisfied his logic. "We should have the matter of Ops settled in a couple of days," Anwal said, deliberately changing the subject. "Commander Vinak is seeing to it. Please continue to keep me apprised of any further arrivals." It was more a dismissal than an instruction; she knew that Sovinn would have done so, regardless.

"Yes, Captain," he said, turning to head back the way he'd come.

 


	2. Chapter 2

_Stardate 47070.9_

The lounge was not an ideal place for going over personnel files, bustling as it was with convention attendees, but both Starfleet _and_ civilian members of the scientific community were present, some of whom Vinak would not mind a chance encounter with should the opportunity arise. He was not just first officer of _Sojourn_ , but her science officer as well, his own area of expertise lying in the field of exobiology. He did make every effort to keep abreast of current theory--and so here he sat, his third cup of spice tea sitting nearly empty in front of him.

Despite the size of the crowd he'd remained undisturbed; perhaps it was his location, in the corner furthest from the door. Or maybe he simply gave off an air of being too busy. He'd been analyzing the files in great detail, hoping… A flicker of irritation crossed his features so quickly it might never have happened. No, not hoping. That would be an emotional response to the matter at hand, and he was simply trying to pick the best person for the position, whoever it might be. He'd thought that the files would bring clarity, but they had not.

Vinak was not so inattentive that he could miss the waiter approach his table, at the edge of his peripheral vision...no doubt coming to inquire if he'd be staying for a fourth cup of tea. It was, however, growing quite late--and he still had to find time to make his decision about Ops somewhere during tomorrow's full day of seminars. "I do not require any more tea," he murmured, not glancing up from his work.

"Yes sir," the waiter replied. "But I was asked to bring you this." He set a rectangular and fairly shallow dark wooden box on the table, its lacquered lid hinged on one side.

Vinak arched a brow, lowering the PADD enough to give the box more of his attention. "Asked by whom?"

"By the woman over by the--" The waiter turned, gesturing...and faltered, glancing about the lounge. "I'm sorry, she's gone."

Vinak lifted the lid of the box...and stiffened in both surprise and recognition before closing it crisply. "What did she look like?" he asked, pinning the waiter with a sharp gaze.

The man blanched slightly under that intense gaze - perhaps wondering if he'd erred in agreeing to hand the box over. "Tall, pale, blue eyes…" He lifted a hand to gesture at his own blond hair. "Black feathers."

"Lieutenant Lhir." Vinak pressed his lips together. It was not quite a frown, but close. He gathered up the PADD and the box, rising to his feet and sweeping across the room in long strides. He'd thought he would find her, first; that she'd contacted him was a surprise. What was in the box, however, demanded an explanation.

She could not have gone far, and at his height he had no trouble seeing past the small groups of people which still lingered in the corridors. When he'd gone far enough to concede that perhaps she had eluded him after all, he slowed to a stop, peering inside the box again. Inside was a book, of Vulcan origin and quite old. How had she managed to get her hands on another copy? He cast one last glance up the corridor before turning back the way he'd come.

From this angle, he could see what he had not before--a door slightly ajar, with darkness beyond. If memory served, the door led to a small terrace. He approached, quietly, pushing the door open the rest of the way. A solitary figure stood outside, cast in moonlight and what light spilled between the drawn blinds of the windows which lined the terrace. Pale hands gripped the railing, spaced wide, head low between her shoulders. There was no arrogance in the pose, nothing at all that he recognized save for the gleam of her dark plumage, which caught the faint light out here in ways that hair did not. She tilted her head ever so slightly and he recalled the strength of _elari_ hearing, those ears longer and more tapered than his own and tipped with a tuft of down.

She drew a soft breath, pushing off from the railing and turning to face him--and taking two steps back in alarm as she registered who had stepped out onto the terrace, reflective eyes flashing silver as her gaze flicked from him to the door and back again. "Commander," Lhir said, squaring her shoulders. For a moment a hint of the old arrogance crept into her gaze...and evaporated just as quickly. "You found me…I didn't think you would."

Vinak regarded her in silence for a long moment, taking her measure. Then, he set the box on the railing, still some distance from her. "I am not sure what you hoped to accomplish, in buying a replacement."

She glanced aside, over the edge of the terrace to the city below. "It is not a replacement," Lhir confessed. "It _is_ the original."

"The original…" It was an impossibility. Vinak remembered that day clearly--remembered retrieving the book from the aquarium in his office, and peeling apart the sodden pages to assess the damage. It _had_ been his own book, or at least he had assumed as much. The damage had been extensive. His gaze slid toward the box, where it sat on the railing. At the time, she'd claimed it was an accident, that she'd been curious about some items on his shelf and had accidentally dropped the book. But if this was, in fact, the original...it meant that she'd lied back then, a more egregious offense than the one he'd thought she'd committed.

He drew the box toward him, flipping open the lid to withdraw the book. Even in the dim lighting he could see well enough, and as he flipped through the pages he became more perplexed and--despite all efforts to the contrary--more irritated. "This _is_ the original," he conceded at last. The book was old enough to have accumulated a few distinctive stains and marks. He closed the book carefully, and set it back in the box. "This raises some questions, Lieutenant." Even to his own ears his voice sounded uncommonly stern.

Lhir shifted one foot, as though contemplating another step backward, and then held her ground. She did, however, open both hands and hold them carefully at her sides. It was a gesture which typically demonstrated a lack of intention to cause harm. "I can explain, Commander."

"Then do so." Vinak collected the box, stepping away from the railing. Lhir's gaze followed him, but her posture did not change. "What possible reason could you have for such an elaborate ruse?"

Lhir opened her mouth as if to speak, and closed it again when words failed her, finally tearing her gaze away from his. "Understand, Commander, at that time I was still thinking in _elari_ ways," she finally managed to say. "And when I learned that you'd be overseeing the tactical final for my class, I devised a strategy to beat it that was typically... _elari_."

Vinak arched a brow, curiosity winning out over irritation, at least for the moment. The tactical final, still sometimes referred to as the Kobayashi Maru test--though the scenario had seen much alteration over the years in order to keep it unpredictable, and hardly resembled its initial incarnation. "I do not see the connection."

Lhir seemed to ease; either because he seemed open to listening, or because she found some relief in speaking. "I needed you to dislike me, even just temporarily. The book...it stood out to me as something you might value. But I couldn't destroy the original. I didn't know if it had been a gift, or what sentimental value it might hold--" She broke off, cheeks flushing slightly pink. "I mean no offense. At the time, I didn't know much about Vulcans. I intended to give the book back, afterward, but...things didn't go as I'd planned. I did not pass the test, and I…" She trailed off, casting an apologetic glance his way.

"In what way was your performance in the tactical test dependent on my--" Vinak hesitated. Dislike implied an emotional response he was unwilling to ascribe to himself. But any other words somehow failed to hit the mark. "Disapproval," he finally decided on.

"I was confident that I could win, if given a science vessel," Lhir explained, looking at him almost expectantly, as though he should be experiencing some sort of revelation.

"I recall you boasting that you could win in anything except a science vessel, Lieutenant," he remarked, even as his mind worked through what she had revealed so far, trying to find some shred of logic in it. Though perhaps there was… "You intended for me to assign you that ship," he said. "You thought that I would wish to see you fail, and give you the very thing that I believed you did not want." It did have a certain logic to it, and it galled him that he had, in fact, done exactly that. "But why a science vessel?"

"Because I know my strengths, Commander. I put my trust in the sensors above all else--above speed, above firepower. And I was pretty sure that the scenario would feature Romulan opponents that year. With the sensors of a science class vessel, I could detect the singularity inside--"

"The logs of your test have been examined in depth, Lieutenant. No one has been able to draw the same conclusions that you did from the sensor data." For a while, allegations of cheating had been thrown around in the wake of her test, but no sign of tampering had ever been found.

Lhir's eyes flickered silver in the moonlight as her gaze snapped up to meet his own. "Do not doubt my hearing, Commander," she murmured. Despite the soft tones, he could hear the first trace of anger...of pride, perhaps, in her voice. "I admit I made mistakes in how I approached that test. I treated you like an enemy to be overcome, I misinterpreted the purpose of the test--I thought that I was supposed to win, by any means. But I heard what I heard, and that part I will stand by." Her shoulders sank slowly, the brief flash of pride wilting under his steady regard.

She lapsed into silence, and Vinak let that silence stretch on as he considered her words carefully. During the simulation, she'd fired on a cloaked Romulan ship without provocation, without attempting communications. The ship she'd been commanding for the test had limited offensive capabilities, but with its shields lowered in order to remain cloaked, the Romulan ship hadn't stood a chance. That, as much as anything else--even allegations of cheating--had very nearly ended her as a cadet.

"It was an _elari_ solution, not a Starfleet one," Lhir admitted, almost as though she could read his thoughts. But her gaze was distant, not focused on him at all. "I do regret it, Commander. I regretted it even more after I read the book…"

"You read it," Vinak said. Despite the flatness of his tone, he felt a faint twinge of alarm at the mere thought.

Lhir nodded. "I did, Commander," she replied, leaning forward slightly. "Since I had it, I thought it wouldn't hurt. I've read it, and translated it. It was quite good, actually. I particularly enjoyed--"

"That is quite _enough_ , Lieutenant," he snapped, his irritation spilling over.

She drew back, pale blue eyes wide and startled. "I'm sorry, Commander," she murmured. One hand twitched at her side, as she restrained herself from some gesture...and then she finally took that last step back, turning to look out over the edge of the terrace. "I have erred again, it seems."

Vinak likewise turned away, eyes closing as he sought to center himself once more. That flash of anger had caught him off guard more than it had her--not just the intensity of it, but what it had masked. It had been embarrassment, and once that emotion had been identified it was a simple enough matter to suppress both that and the anger which had risen as a cover for it.

He did not want her aboard. She irritated him, seemingly without intending to, though he found that he understood her own reasoning a bit better. As a strategy, given the parameters she'd laid out--victory by any means--he could see the merit in it. It had not been a Starfleet strategy, though he reluctantly acknowledged that she did seem aware of that fact, and her record testified to her successful adaptation to Starfleet rules and regulations... _and_ her skill. He could see no way to object to offering her the Ops position without making it personal, and that would put him under a scrutiny he did not want.

"Lieutenant Lhir," he finally said, turning around to face her. "Further acts of larceny will not be tolerated, under any circumstances. I want to be very clear on this point."

She turned her face toward him, her expression one of surprise, and cautious optimism. "Sir?" Lhir murmured, her gaze intent, as though trying to read his expression. "I mean, yes sir. I understand, Commander."

He released a slow breath, not quite a sigh. "Very well. You will receive your orders in the morning."

 

* * *

 

Once Vinak's oppressive presence had gone, Lhir drew a soft breath to steady herself, closing her eyes and balling her hands loosely into fists at her sides. After all this time she found him as intimidating as ever--though truth be told, there were very few people she didn't react to with some sort of alarm initially. It was a racial trait: xenophobia, the fear of the Other. This was a confrontation she hadn't needed after a day spent among so many strangers. She could feel the first fluttering of panic deep in her gut; there was still time to return to her quarters, however, where her anxiety medication waited.

_I should have brought it with me._

She lifted one hand to her comm badge, giving it a gentle tap. "Lhir to _Endeavour_ ," she murmured. "One to beam up."

Acknowledgment came, and then the gentle hum and brief disorientation of transport. The terrace faded from view, to be replaced by one of the Endeavour's transporter rooms, and Lhir cast a tight smile at the crewman manning the console before making her way to the exit. Fortunately he did not seem inclined to talk, nor did anyone else she passed; she made her way through the ship entirely without incident, hands clasped at the small of her back to suppress the faint tremors which had begun to settle in.

When at last she came to her quarters, she all but flung herself inside. She did not bother with the lights, instead finding her way to the nightstand beside the bed unerringly in what starlight spilled in through the window. Settling on the edge of the bed and opening the drawer, she fumbled for the hypospray she knew lay within--felt it hit the end of a questing fingertip and spin off into the corner. _Breathe._ She closed her eyes, took a deliberate breath...and then a second, deeper one to steady herself. This time her hand closed around the hypospray and she shifted it in her grip, pulling it from the drawer before using the head of it to nudge her collar aside and press against her flesh in a single practiced movement. There was no chance of overdose, no matter how shaky her hands--the hypospray had been calibrated in sickbay to release a precise dosage with each use, and the quantity remaining was measured each week when she went in for a refill.

A chime broke the silence, announcing someone outside her door; Lhir nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound. "Come in." She'd said it out of reflex, and it wasn't until the door opened to reveal a dark figure cast in silhouette by the bright light of the corridor that she belatedly added, "Lights, fifty percent."

"Am I intruding?" The figure, revealed as the ship's counselor as the lights came on, remained just outside her door.

Her gaze flickered over his features, wondering (not for the first time) if he was, in fact, some sort of telepath despite his fully human ancestry. "No," she murmured, laying the hypospray down on top of the nightstand. "Your timing is…" She trailed off with a small shrug.

Lieutenant Bennett chuckled softly, entering to allow the doors to shut behind him. "I _may_ have asked to be notified when you returned," he explained, choosing a chair which kept a fair bit of distance between them, but faced in her general direction. His own gaze lingered on the hypospray, and she was sure he'd noted that this was not the time for her normal maintenance dose. "How was the conference?"

"Interesting," Lhir replied. He continued to regard her quietly, and while it did not have the weight or intensity of Commander Vinak's stare, she _knew_ it wasn't the answer he was waiting for. "Busy," she said. "Crowded… I was surprised by the number of questions I was asked after the panel had ended." She'd been doing well, until that point, and then a half-dozen mathematicians--and a pair of musicians--had cornered her to ask more in-depth questions about her small part of the overall presentation. "It was a little overwhelming," she conceded, hoping that if she volunteered something he wouldn't dig deeper.

"But you managed," Bennett pointed out. "I don't think you could have agreed to speak at a conference a year ago, even as part of a group."

"No," Lhir agreed. She was well aware of the progress she'd made over the last twenty years--the last nine in particular, which encompassed both her Academy years and her time on the _Endeavour_. Days like today were far less common; even then, she'd managed to make it back to the ship before she'd had a full out panic attack, on a day which had included both public speaking _and_ a confrontation she'd been dreading for years.

"I hear you've applied for a transfer to the _Sojourn_." It was a question, despite the phrasing. Bennett's tone was casual, that practiced neutrality he used when he wasn't trying to influence her answer one way or the other.

He was, she had to admit, exceedingly good at it. Lhir had never felt confident that she knew how he expected her to answer; more often than not, she found herself offering the truth. She sat watching him in silence for a long moment, wondering how well he could see her in the dim light of her quarters. "I'll find out in the morning," she answered. It wouldn't be enough--she recognized the unspoken 'why'. "You think I'm running away," she guessed, deflecting his question with one of her own.

"Are you?" Bennett shot back, undeterred.

Lhir cast her gaze aside, and hoped that her hesitation would be interpreted as a deliberate pause to consider the question. By now, her hands had finally stopped shaking, so when she made a small gesture of dismissal they did not betray her. Even her attempt at deflection had been laced with a little too much truth. "No," she replied, softly.

 


	3. Chapter 3

_Stardate 47071.4_

_Utopia Planitia Shipyard_

One last piece of luggage made it to the captain’s quarters, the small case containing eight sealed capsules having made a detour through the botany lab. As Captain Anwal’s fingers worked the latches, she wondered how many of the cuttings had passed the botanist’s inspection--and when she opened the lid and found all eight cuttings inside, presumably free of any disease or parasite, her lips parted in a wide smile. She lifted one of the transparent capsules to ponder the specimen within. It remained to be seen how well they would tolerate _Sojourn_ ’s environmental settings, but she was hopeful.

They weren’t much to look at, compared to the more exotic flora she’d seen in her travels. Anwal was no botanist herself, only someone who preferred to be surrounded by growing things, and these eight spider plant cuttings would transform her quarters in a matter of weeks with fairly little effort on her part. _Sojourn_ was a smaller ship, its quarters spartan compared to something much larger like the _Galaxy_ -class. It would take some effort to bring some color and life to the room, but she’d never been one to back down from a challenge, and these plants would be a good start.

Her combadge gave a soft chirp, and she set the capsule back with a twinge of regret. It might be days before she found time to plant them properly. Fortunately, there were enough nutrients within the capsules to sustain them that long at least. She tapped the badge. “Anwal,” she said, briskly.

“Captain.” It was Commander Vinak’s voice; for the time being, they were working alternating shifts on the bridge as the bulk of the crew settled in and readied their various departments for launch. “Incoming message from Admiral Jacobs.”

“I’ll take it in my ready room,” Anwal replied, after the briefest pause. "Join me, Commander." She could have had the transmission routed to her quarters, but it was unlikely the admiral was calling just to chat, just three days out from their departure. If there were new orders, it would save time if she didn’t have to relay the information after the fact. She set the plants aside and exited her quarters, turning sharply to the right. She did not spare a glance for the bridge entrance coming up on the left, assuming her first officer was on his way, and instead turned another sharp right to enter the ready room conveniently located beside her quarters. As she'd expected, the commander was a looming presence at her back as she entered.

“Any idea what this is about?” the captain asked, seating herself and turning the small monitor on her desk toward her.

“None, captain.” Vinak folded his lanky form into a chair on the opposite side of the desk.

Anwal leaned forward, and pressed a finger to the control which accepted the incoming transmission. Jacobs was a familiar face on the screen, an older woman with hair gone completely grey and sharp features which looked intimidating only until she smiled. “Admiral Jacobs. I’ve got Commander Vinak with me...I hadn’t thought we’d be hearing from you so soon. How can we help you?”

The admiral smiled wryly, and she lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “I doubt any of us join Starfleet for a _predictable_ existence,” she replied in dry tones, her gaze drifting toward the side of the screen as if to include Vinak in that statement, even though he was off-screen. “But I’ve received a request from Vulcan which shouldn’t inconvenience you too much.”

Vinak arched a brow, even as the captain leaned forward. “Nothing too serious, I hope,” Anwal said.

Jacobs shook her head. “No, nothing like that,” she said. “But the Vulcan science vessel which was scheduled to ferry six civilians from the conference in San Francisco back to Vulcan caught the edge of that ion storm on the way to Earth, and is still undergoing maintenance which will delay them for several days. They’ve asked if Starfleet could spare a vessel to take them instead, and since _Sojourn_ is headed that way…”

Anwal smiled. “I see. Of course we’d be happy to take them. Though...I do hope they know the accommodations might not be what they were expecting.”

“I doubt that the Vulcans will mind,” Jacobs replied. “And the Tellarite travelling with them would have complained anyway, I’m sure.” That last bit was spoken in tones heavily laced with humor, before the admiral’s expression sobered. “I know you were originally scheduled to depart in three days. We’d like you to depart tomorrow, if your ship and crew are ready. I understand the bulk of the crew are already aboard?”

For a moment, Vinak’s other eyebrow joined the first in its climb toward his hairline, his expression of curiosity transforming into one of surprise. He recovered quickly, lacing his fingers together and frowning thoughtfully--no doubt already considering the changes which would need to be made to meet the new schedule.

“The ship will be ready,” Anwal assured her, trusting that Vinak would have a schedule in mind before long. “And the only member of the crew we’re waiting on from Earth is Lieutenant Lhir. The last few personnel will be picked up on Vulcan.”

Jacobs nodded. “The lieutenant will arrive with your passengers. You can expect them early tomorrow.” At Anwal’s nod of acknowledgment, the admiral continued. “I’m sorry for the last minute change to your schedule, Captain. I’ll send full details within the hour--keep me apprised of any adjustments on your end.”

“Yes, Admiral.” The screen darkened, and Captain Anwal cast a glance at Vinak. "Tomorrow. I suppose it could be worse."

The Vulcan nodded. "Indeed. I will have to rework the duty schedule, once the admiral's orders arrive and we have a firm departure time. I will also need to inform those members of the crew awaiting our arrival on Vulcan that we will be earlier than anticipated…" He pressed his lips together, lapsing into a brief silence. "And instruct Lieutenant Lhir to arrive rested--there will be insufficient time between her arrival and our departure for rest, by the sound of it," he finished.

Anwal regarded her first officer with barely concealed curiosity. She was pleased that he'd set aside whatever objection he'd had to the _elari_ officer, though she still didn't know the why of it. It made the Vulcan far more interesting than she'd originally thought. "Notify all departments, except for engineering. I'm going to go speak to Lieutenant Wei myself."

"Captain?"

"Indulge me," Anwal replied, with a smile. "You have your orders, Commander."

 

* * *

 

Engineering was organized chaos. The engineering department had been among the first to come aboard, as the burden of the successful launch of the ship rode on their shoulders more than it did those of the science division, despite the nature of their vessel and its mission. There were always last minute details to see to, and diagnostics to run--though the chief engineer had a great respect for those who worked at the Utopia Planitia Shipyard, any shortcomings or systems failures aboard _Sojourn_ would reflect poorly on him, and those under his command. Despite the bustle of activity, however, the crew’s movements were efficient and purposeful...which made it all the more apparent when an anomalous presence in command red rather than operations gold cut a path through the commotion on a beeline for his position.

“Lieutenant Wei,” Captain Anwal greeted him, with a short nod.

The chief engineer straightened, instinctively reacting to the sense of urgency which surrounded his commanding officer. Wei Jin was no green cadet; he knew her presence here meant something had come up. “Captain.” He cast a glance about engineering, before shifting his attention back to her. “I was going to write up a progress report at the end of shift--”

Anwal held up her hand, offering him a fleeting smile. “I know this is unexpected,” she assured him. “I’ll want that progress report still, though...there’s been a development. Starfleet wants us to depart tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow!” Wei exclaimed. At the nearest console, Lieutenant T’Saren cocked her head. He cleared his throat, cheeks flushing faintly red as he realized that his surprise could be interpreted as not being ready, and that the captain was waiting on his answer as well. He measured the tasks that remained against the new timeline the captain had proposed, and finally gave a single cautious nod. “We still have some diagnostics to run, but I can shorten the time considerably by running level two or three diagnostics on the remaining systems instead of level one. The difference should be negligible in terms of safety.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see T’Saren’s head turn a little farther in his direction; in another moment the engineer swung herself around to face them both. “Respectfully, sir, I disagree.”

Wei regarded the Vulcan in silence. The woman had decades on him, and though he’d served as an engineer in Starfleet almost fifteen years, he was painfully aware that this was his first posting as chief engineer. Would the captain think he was taking shortcuts, or would she think he was being efficient? He considered asking T'Saren to clarify her stance, before reminding himself that Vulcans were, by nature, overly cautious. Before he could open his mouth to reply, the captain herself spoke.

“How so, Lieutenant?” Anwal asked. Though the question was aimed at T’Saren, the captain’s gaze slid sideways toward Wei.

T’Saren straightened, emboldened by the acknowledgement. “The systems remaining to test are some of our most critical--including the EPS power grid, and the transporters. A problem with either of those systems would have more than a ‘negligible’ impact on crew safety.”

For a moment, Wei's heart sank as he realized the other engineer could be right. But… “Captain,” Wei interjected, before the captain could formulate a reply. “I understand what the lieutenant is saying, but…this is a brand new ship, with brand new components, and nothing in Utopia Planitia’s records indicates anything which could have adversely affected the ship's systems after their own diagnostics were run. While I acknowledge that these are some of our more critical systems, the chance of there being any sort of issue a type two or three diagnostic would miss _is_ negligible, in my opinion.” He cast a glance at T’Saren, who simply tightened her lips disapprovingly and made no reply.

Captain Anwal seemed to mull over both of their answers, before nodding in Wei’s direction. “I’m inclined to agree with our chief engineer,” she said, before focusing her attention fully on Wei. “I’ll be looking for that status report , Lieutenant .”

Wei nodded, managing a smile for the captain even as he swallowed his irritation with T’Saren’s objection. “You’ll have it, Captain.”

 

* * *

 

Anwal was pleased on more than one count as she headed back to the turbolift. Her confidence in their readiness to depart was renewed, as was her confidence in the chief engineer. She hadn’t been sure he’d be able to stand up to the more forceful personalities he’d be working with. His previous commanding officer had described him as brilliant but easy-going, which was not necessarily a negative on its own--but it could be when placed in a position where he would be making decisions which would need to stand up to challenge. For a brief moment, she’d wondered if he would back down when T’Saren had disagreed with his assessment, but when Anwal had given T’Saren her ear it had inspired Wei to push back, instead.

She did not expect perfection of her crew. They were--at least some of them--only human, with all that that entailed. She did, however, need to know that she could count on them to perform their duties under pressure despite all that. Thus far, what she had seen of her crew was encouraging.

As Anwal stepped onto the bridge, Vinak moved to intercept her, PADD in hand. She shifted course to meet him at the edge of the sunken area at the center of the bridge. "Captain," the Vulcan said, handing her the PADD. "We have received our final departure time, and I've adjusted the shifts accordingly."

She glanced over it, scrolling through both the orders and his schedule adjustments, nodding in approval. Their departure time was about three hours later than she'd guessed, which should give the engineering department a little more time to finish their work. "Good," Anwal replied. "I hope you made sure to allow yourself some rest time, Commander. I want everyone at their best."

Vinak arched a brow. "I might remind you, Captain...Vulcans do not require as much rest as a human would."

"Humor me, Commander," Anwal said, turning to Sovinn before Vinak could object. "We don't have much in the way of guest quarters, but I'd like to keep our guests in the same section of the ship if at all possible. It may mean temporarily moving some of the crew. I'll leave that in your hands, Lieutenant Commander--you've a better idea as to where we've got the room, I suspect." Security had been heavily involved in receiving the other members of the crew and getting them situated, both because they had the most time for it (with the exception of Sovinn, who'd also been busy inspecting the tactical systems and the armory) but also because the sheer number of people and packages coming aboard presented a security risk, an increased opportunity for unwanted persons or technology to enter the ship.

Sovinn nodded. "Those were my thoughts as well, Captain. I'll see to it immediately."

Anwal smiled, and gave a satisfied nod. "Good. Now, if you'll excuse me, gentlemen..." She side-stepped around Sovinn to head for her ready room. Reports would begin to come in any time now, from various departments--all of which would need to be looked over. Status reports, requisition reports...she made a mental note to ensure any critical supplies were not going to miss their revised departure date. It wasn't just _crew_ they'd have to scramble to get situated.

She might have been annoyed with the sudden change; anyone might be, after being informed they'd have to fit three days of work into one. But Admiral Jacobs had been right--Anwal _hadn't_ joined Starfleet for a predictable existence. It was not irritation, but rather elation that coursed through her as she toggled on her monitor. Each report which would trickle in over the next day--no matter how routine--would bring the ship one step closer to getting underway. Though this was not her first command, it was the start of a new adventure for her...a new ship, a new crew, a new purpose.

Her lips twitched into a rueful smile as the first of the reports hit her inbox. It was going to be exceedingly hard to take her own advice, and get some sleep.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The civilian passengers and Lieutenant Lhir board the ship, and the USS Sojourn finally gets underway!

_Stardate 47072.3_

_Utopia Planitia Shipyard_

At any other time, the captain or first officer might have gone to the transporter room to greet their passengers in person. But with only four hours remaining to their departure both were busy with other matters, leaving Lieutenant Commander Sovinn to the task along with two of his guards. “The civilians are boarding first, correct?” he asked the transporter chief, who answered with a simple nod. The transporter could bring six people over at one time; Lieutenant Lhir, being the seventh and not a guest, would have to wait. “Good. You may bring them aboard,” he said, folding his hands behind his back.

Sovinn watched as six pillars of light coalesced into six humanoid forms, familiar to him only through the files which had been attached to the orders from Admiral Jacobs. His gaze lingered on each one, long enough to make a positive identification: the two Vulcan males, Stov and Nejok, geologist and computer scientist respectively; two Vulcan females, botanist Aareth and geneticist Meral; a human geneticist, Stephen Wright; and the Tellarite Sharggos Kul, who was also a computer scientist. Despite Sovinn’s outwardly indifferent appearance, his curiosity was piqued by the air of agitation which surrounded the group as a whole, including the Vulcans. It seemed out of place, even considering the inconveniences they might have endured.

“Welcome,” he said to the group, setting aside his curiosity for the time being. “These officers will see you to your quarters, and answer any questions you might have about the equipment within...as well as provide directions to facilities you might require, such as the mess hall, or sickbay.”

“Will the science labs be open to us as well?” Meral asked, stepping off the transporter platform.

Sovinn arched a brow, considering the question. “I will need to inquire, but I do not think that would be an issue--though it will likely have to wait until some time after launch. Many departments are still performing tasks related to our early departure.”

Meral inclined her head. “Understandable,” she replied. “I would appreciate--”

An explosive snort of irritation from the Tellarite halted the Vulcan woman mid-sentence. “I think you can wait until we have been taken to our quarters,” he grumbled. “I, for one, grow tired of these delays. I will not wait while you decide you want to work before the rest of us have even had a chance to get settled.” He jabbed a thick finger in Meral’s direction before pushing past her to stand near the guards, eyeing the two Vulcan officers critically. For a moment, it seemed he might make some other complaint, but in the end he simply twisted his lips into an expression of distaste which spoke volumes.

Sovinn wondered, briefly, why the Tellarite was traveling to Vulcan at all...but he suspected that any inquiry would only lead to a most unpleasant conversation. He gave a nod to his guards, who began ushering the passengers and their luggage out into the hall. As the human passed by, he cast a faintly apologetic glance at Sovinn. “ _Most_ of us are grateful, Commander,” Wright murmured, before following the others into the hall. As the door closed, Sovinn closed his eyes and exhaled softly. Perhaps he’d found the source of the agitation after all, and could lay that little mystery to rest.

“Signal the transport that we are ready for Lieutenant Lhir,” he said, opening his eyes again to regard the transporter pad. “Beam over when ready.”

“Aye sir.”

After only a few moments, a single column of shimmering light appeared on the pad, taking the form of a lean figure in operations gold. “Lieutenant,” he said, in greeting. He’d studied her file as well, and so knew what to expect--pale skin and sharply angled ears, short black feathers in place of hair, but otherwise not too dissimilar from the humans, Vulcans, and other species she’d be working alongside. A picture had not prepared him for the nervous energy which clung to her though, her gaze intent and her hands white knuckled on the strap of her luggage.

Despite that, her voice was controlled as she answered him. “Commander,” she murmured, her gaze taking in the transporter room as though it were unfamiliar territory. He thought it curious, not having personally found any difference from this transporter room to any other that was particularly noteworthy.

In any case, she did not seem inclined to step down from the transporter pad--or at least, not in the haste the situation called for. “I will show you to your quarters, Lieutenant,” Sovinn said, holding out a PADD. “Your temporary security codes, and other information you may find useful. I suggest you make time to change your codes before we get underway. Unfortunately, you will have little time for much else.”

Lhir’s hands gripped her bag even tighter for a brief moment, before she strode forward and took the PADD from his hand. “Yes, Commander,” she said. “I apologize...I suppose I’m still adjusting to the idea that we’re leaving today.”

Sovinn lifted both eyebrows a fraction, before turning and heading for the door, taking it for granted that she would follow. “I imagine from your perspective this must all be moving fairly quickly,” he mused. He’d known about his own posting to   _Sojourn_ for over five months; he understood that Lhir had only received her orders a couple of days prior.

“Quickly, yes,” she agreed, falling into step beside him as they turned the corner and headed up the corridor toward the turbolift. “But I’m glad to be here, sir.” He watched her adjust her grip on her luggage, now holding it one-handed, and it occurred to him that there might be another reason for the white-knuckled grip which had nothing at all to do with nerves.

“Is your luggage heavy, Lieutenant?” he asked, shifting his gaze to the bag itself.

Lhir’s fingers tightened around the strap. “No,” she said, quickly. And then... “Yes. Maybe. I--” Her cheeks colored faintly pink. “I may not have accounted for the increased gravity aboard _Sojourn_ when I made the decision to carry some of my equipment with me,” she finished, as the turbolift doors closed behind them. “But I can manage.”

“Deck one,” Sovinn instructed the computer, before addressing Lhir. “It might be more efficient if I were to carry it the rest of the way.”

She gave a startled blink, and for the first time turned to look at him fully. “I couldn’t ask you to do that, Commander.”

Sovinn arched a brow, reaching out to close his own hand around the strap. “You did not ask. Nor would it be logical for me to be inconvenienced by a course of action which I suggested--” He broke off as she released her tight grip on the bag, and he bore its full weight. Though it posed no particular difficulty for him, it was heavier than he’d expected. By the feel of it, she’d packed virtually nothing in the way of clothing or personal effects. “Is equipment _all_ that you brought, Lieutenant?”

The nervous energy which had begun to dissipate flared up again, the color of the lieutenant’s cheeks deepening enough to make him realize that he might have erred in making the inquiry. He could not ‘unask’ the question; after a moment to consider his options, he decided that switching to a less objectionable subject might cut through the sudden tension. “Did you have a chance to rest on the way over?”

For a moment, he perceived an increase in Lhir’s anxiety, which perplexed him. He’d considered himself fairly adept at what humans called ‘small talk’, for a Vulcan. Then she drew a soft breath, and released it slowly. “Not as much as I would have liked, Commander.” For a time it seemed she wouldn’t say any more, but as they came to a halt in front of her quarters she glanced at him sidelong. “Have you ever traveled with a Tellarite, sir?”

Sovinn blinked. “No, I have not. Though I suppose I am about to get the opportunity.”

A faint smile tugged at her lips. “Then I should warn you--he complained about the transport. About the Vulcans. About the conference, and Earth, and the people and food there… He argued with Nejok about computers, and the crew about... _everything_ , really. In the end, he complained that no one else had anything to complain about.” She paused. “I suppose I could have complained about his complaining, but I dislike confrontation...and so I spent most of the trip pretending to sleep.”

“I suspect it was a wise course of action,” Sovinn noted, dryly. His own brief experience with the Tellarite suggested she was not exaggerating in her description. “Though you will be unable to pretend to sleep for the entire trip to Vulcan.” He opened the door and stepped inside, setting her luggage on the bed. “Your duty shift begins in two hours, Lieutenant--I suggest you see to any urgent business before then.”

“Yes, sir,” Lhir replied, with a quick nod. “I’ll do that, and...I won’t forget to update my security codes. Thank you, Commander.”

Sovinn arched a brow, pausing on his way out the door. For a moment, he considered telling her that her thanks were not required. He’d done nothing outside his assigned duties. He knew, however, that many non-Vulcans found such honesty off-putting, and preferred a more formulaic response. “You are quite welcome, Lieutenant,” he replied.

 

* * *

 

Two hours.

It wasn’t nearly enough time to do half the things Lhir would have liked (a shower would have been particularly welcome), but it was just enough time to do those things which had to be done. And on the bright side at least, the rapid pace at which her transfer from one assignment to the next was proceeding left her little time to worry. It felt very much like running downhill--the more she focused on simply taking the next step and moving forward, the better.

Lhir glanced at the luggage which sat on the bed with a brief pang of regret--she would miss her custom interfaces dearly, until she had time to synchronize them to _Sojourn_ ’s sensor arrays. She didn’t bother unpacking any of it just yet. The process of getting the equipment ready would take several hours, if not days, and use of the astrometrics lab (or whatever passed for one on a vessel as small as this), neither of which she was likely to have within the immediate future.

Other than her equipment there really wasn’t much in the way of personal effects. Commander Sovinn had been right about that--besides a pair of books, a few toiletries, and a couple of pieces of clothing she had not been sure she could replace through use of a replicator, she had nothing which would give her quarters some illusion of permanence. She left those items still packed for now as well, as there was nothing she needed immediately.

Changing her security codes took a matter of minutes, and confirming that her medical records had been transferred to _Sojourn_ ’s medical staff was likewise a simple matter. Lhir sat for a few minutes at the small desk, wishing she could spend the rest of her remaining time alone, before powering down the computer terminal and rising to her feet. She was senior staff, and that position came with certain expectations, such as introducing herself to the captain and the others she would be working alongside. Despite her hopes for this posting--or, perhaps, because of them--the trepidation she felt as she left her quarters far outstripped that she’d felt when joining the _Endeavour_ ’s crew.

 

* * *

 

The bridge was more crowded than Lhir had expected. At a few stations officers huddled in pairs, the next shift arriving early to either familiarize themselves with any new features of the _Nova_ -class vessel, or simply to lend a helping hand. She could have avoided the bridge entirely, taking the corridor which circled it, but it struck her as the cowardly option. Instead, she skirted the rear of the bridge, trying to create as small a disturbance as she could, though she did pause mid-step to watch a Vulcan engineer working at one panel just long enough to note what he was doing. As Ops Officer she would be expected to report on the status of the ship’s systems, and she was very much aware that she was coming into this somewhat blind.

Only when she was halfway across the bridge did she shift her gaze to the sunken command center in the middle of it. It was not the captain who sat there, but Commander Vinak; though he faced forward, there was something in his posture and the set of his head that let her know that he was very much aware of her presence. “Commander,” she said, with a respectful nod of her head that she wasn’t sure he would note. It was far easier to speak without being subject to that dark gaze of his.

“Lieutenant,” Vinak replied, his own voice carrying a note of dismissal. She crossed the remainder of the distance with profound relief, though at the same steady pace. It was not running away if it was done slowly and deliberately...or at least that’s what she chose to believe.

She did not have to wait long outside the captain’s ready room; hardly more than a second passed from the time Lhir touched the panel beside the door to announce her presence to Captain Anwal’s invitation to enter, spoken in the distracted tones of someone who’d grown quite accustomed to interruptions. She stepped inside to find the captain preoccupied with the monitor on her desk, a faint furrow in her brow and her chin propped up on one fist.

Anwal glanced her way...and as recognition flickered across her features she looked up from the monitor entirely, her posture straightening. “You must be Lieutenant Lhir.”

“Yes, Captain.” Lhir stood with her hands clasped behind her back. Though it was expected that she present herself to the captain upon boarding, she never knew what she was supposed to say. It had been the same upon her arrival aboard the _Endeavour_...though perhaps this time there were some words which needed saying. “I wanted to thank you for this opportunity, Captain. I know that there were likely more experienced applicants…” She’d been close by, and convenient--but she held no illusions that if circumstances had been different, there was every possibility that someone else would be standing there instead.

Anwal smiled, and there was a glint in her eyes which suggested that she knew exactly where Lhir’s thoughts had gone. “Sit down for a minute, Lieutenant,” she said, gesturing toward the chair across from her. As Lhir settled into the seat, the captain leaned back to regard her more comfortably. “You can thank Commander Vinak when it comes down to it. It was his decision.”

Lhir could not contain her surprise; she smothered it quickly as across the table the captain’s lips twitched as though about to smile. Even after he’d told her to expect her orders, she’d assumed that the decision had been made despite him. “Yes, Captain...I will be sure to do so.”

“Good. I’ve been reading your personnel file,” Anwal said, “and it may not be the file of an officer with a great deal of experience in this position, but it is the file of one with the ability to grow into the role...and that’s nearly as good, as far as I’m concerned. At the very least, I shouldn’t have to break you of too many bad habits, hm?”

Lhir nodded, for a moment at a loss for words. “Thank you, Captain,” she managed to say, along with a small smile of her own. She was sure she had a couple of bad habits, at least. “I won’t disappoint you.” She lifted the PADD she’d carried in with her--not the one Sovinn had provided, but one she’d studied on the trip from Earth. “I kept myself as up to date as I could on _Sojourn_ ’s status, but I know I’m behind. If I could, I’d like to spend the time remaining until my shift on the bridge--” She paused, as she considered what _that_ would entail. “Or perhaps in engineering. I don’t want to be in the way.”

“I doubt Commander Vinak will mind your presence on the bridge, Lieutenant,” the captain replied, cutting ruthlessly to the heart of the matter despite the lightness of her tone. “I understand you two know each other, from the Academy.”

“I...was in a couple of his classes,” Lhir admitted.

“Not one of your favorite instructors, I take it?”

Lhir’s brow furrowed as she cast her glance aside, considering her answer. “More like I wasn’t his favorite student, I think. But he was always fair in his grading...I actually appreciated his honesty, even when it was not in my favor. I always knew exactly where I stood with him. It’s a rare quality.”

“It’s a very Vulcan quality, I’ve found,” Anwal replied. “Honest almost to a fault.”

“It is,” Lhir agreed. “But...there are Vulcans, and then there are _Vulcans_ , if you know what I mean.”

This time the captain did smile, a broad grin lighting up her features. “I do. But you know what they say--infinite diversity in infinite combinations.”

Lhir knew the phrase well--knew it to be a core belief among Vulcans, though she’d noticed that despite the expression’s suggested tolerance of the many differences the universe had to offer, many Vulcans struggled to apply that belief in their day to day interactions with others. To be fair, however, it was a shortcoming which her own people shared. “Yes, Captain,” she agreed.

Anwal nodded, casting a glance to the monitor on her desk. Lhir could only imagine how many reports had arrived just in the short time she’d been here. Anticipating dismissal, she rose to her feet. “You may go, Lieutenant,” Anwal said. “And welcome aboard.”

“Thank you, Captain.” Lhir nodded politely and turned to head out the door, with a silent sigh of relief...though she felt somewhat better than she had when she'd arrived.

As she re-entered the bridge she cast another glance, almost apologetic, toward Vinak before she slipped around to the back of the bridge and out of his sight, seeking out the engineer she’d passed earlier. “I’m Lieutenant Lhir,” she said softly, as the crewman turned to regard her with a brow raised in question. She _could_ catch up on what work was finished and what still needed to be done through the master systems display and the slew of reports she was sure awaited her--but she was trying to turn over a new leaf here...or at the very least to try not to slide back into old habits. _Mingle,_ the counselor had always told her. _Talk to people._ “I just boarded a short while ago, and the last status report I received was almost three hours before that. Can you help get me caught up?” she asked, trusting that he would be able to do what the computer wouldn’t--relay the information weighted by its importance to her personally.

“Of course,” he said, and the knot in her gut eased again, one more hurdle passed, one more successful step taken in that headlong run downhill.

 

* * *

 

Reports trickled in from various departments as they drew ever closer to launch. Anwal monitored them from her ready room, while Commander Vinak held the bridge. Timing was everything, she’d learned; if she went out onto the bridge too soon it could slow their progress, the threat of her open scrutiny distracting the crew from their tasks, whereas right now she was merely a presence on the other side of a screen which quietly acknowledged receipt of their reports. But if she made her appearance too late, she would appear distant and uninterested in her crew, which would likewise impact performance--or at the very least, it would not inspire their confidence in her leadership. She took another sip of tea, glancing at the time displayed in the corner of her screen. Surely by now it was almost--

“Captain. The last of the transports is departing,” Vinak’s voice came over the comm.

Anwal smiled, setting down her cup. That had been the signal she was waiting for, the last of their deliveries being secured in the cargo hold. There was nothing they needed now from outside the ship. “Thank you, Commander,” she replied, rising from her chair with a faint grimace. She’d been sitting far too long… She rubbed her neck as she crossed the room, only lowering her hand again when the doors parted and she stepped through onto the bridge.

She watched as Vinak rose from his chair, no doubt preparing to announce her presence. She help up a hand to forestall him. “I’ve been monitoring our status, Commander. We may actually be ready on time, it seems,” she said, circling around to enter the sunken command center of the bridge. Her gaze swept the room as she went, noting that the extraneous crew were now gone, the previous shift having departed and alpha shift now at their stations.

There wasn’t a single one of the crew that Captain Anwal had served with before, but she did not lament the lack of even a single familiar face. Instead, she regarded her new crew with a certain curiosity, and even anticipation. She looked forward to getting to know them--but even more so, she looked forward to watching the inevitable growth that would happen over the next few years, the relationships which would be built among these people who were now mere acquaintances at best, but who would later become so much more than that. When her last command had ended, and the ship decommissioned, she’d watched her former crew move on to new posts with a pride that was almost parental in nature.

_You can’t be mother to everyone you meet,_ her daughter had teased her on more than one occasion. _Just watch me,_ was her usual reply, only half in jest. Now, Anwal smiled at the thought...and at the absurdity of how inappropriate those feelings might be here, on this ship, with a largely Vulcan crew. Many of them were undoubtedly older than she was. Even their Trill pilot carried a symbiote which held the experiences of several lifetimes, despite the current host’s apparent youth. But absurd or not, she could only be what was in her nature to be.

“We _are_ ready, Captain,” Vinak replied, interrupting her train of thought. She took her seat, and he settled next to her. “The only tasks remaining are those which can be performed en route to Vulcan.”

“Very good, Commander,” she said. “Very good, _everyone_ ,” she amended, raising her voice just enough to reach the entire bridge crew. “I know that this change to our schedule put some extra pressure on each and every one of you, but you rose to the occasion.” The praise drew not a flicker of reaction from either Vinak or Sovinn, and only a slight widening of the eyes from Lhir, who was doubtless too busy feeling that extra pressure to enjoy the moment. Only Ensign Pral managed a proper smile, twisting slightly in his seat to cast a glance over his shoulder.

Anwal suppressed a wry smile. It was not the rousing display of enthusiasm she was accustomed to, but it _was_ what she should have expected. She turned her attention to the small console which sat between her and the commander, noting the time. Only twenty-five minutes to departure. She passed the time in snatches of quiet conversation with her new first officer between acknowledging the last few status reports to come in from engineering. At last, she gave a satisfied nod and turned slightly to address Lhir. "Open a channel to Admiral Jacobs."

"Yes captain," Lhir responded, sounding confident in that task at least.

A few moments later, the admiral's visage replaced the starfield on the viewscreen. "Captain. I trust your guests have arrived safely?"

Anwal nodded. "They have. We are ready to depart, with your permission."

"Permission granted, Captain." Jacobs smiled, leaning forward. "I wish we could have given you a better send off."

Anwal waved off the admiral's concerns with a smile of her own. "I wouldn't have it any other way, Admiral."

The admiral chuckled softly. "No, I suppose you wouldn't," she said. "I'll keep this brief then. Safe voyages...and make us proud, _Sojourn_."

"Thank you, Admiral," the captain replied. The transmission ended, cut off from the admiral's side, and the viewscreen resumed its display of the starfield ahead of them and the curved beams which cradled the vessel in drydock. "Confirm with Utopia Planitia that we are clear to depart, Lieutenant."

"Confirmed." The reply was almost immediate; though there was a certain deer in the headlights look to the lieutenant, Lhir had managed to correctly anticipate the captain's next request and get ahead of it. "Utopia Planitia reports that all shipyard personnel have withdrawn, and internal systems show docking hatches are sealed."

Anwal released a soft breath she hadn't even been aware she'd been holding. She needed no fanfare, no ceremony--this was the moment which mattered, the one in which they were finally free to set forth under their own power. "Take us out slow, Ensign."

"Aye, captain," Pral responded, a hint of eagerness in his tone, reminding the captain that the conn officer had been keenly awaiting this particular moment as well. "Thrusters at one half."

The framework of beams just visible at the edges of the viewscreen slid away as the ship accelerated smoothly out of drydock, leaving nothing but stars in front of them. Anwal eased back in her seat, and cast another glance at the rest of her bridge officers. _Now_ they betrayed some interest, paying rapt attention to the viewscreen as if they could somehow perceive the stars drawing closer even at these low speeds. She smiled, and turned her own attention forward.

"Set course for Vulcan, Ensign Pral."

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know this story has gotten off to a slow start as I introduce characters, but Things are finally happening, I promise!

_Stardate 47075.6_

It might not have been the way in which Lhir would have preferred to start a new assignment, but after two days aboard she finally felt caught up. She could now answer any question about the ship's current status, and she'd found the time to explore the ship and plan out the work she'd like to do to truly excel as operations officer. Unfortunately, the ship was not equipped with a dedicated astrometrics lab—instead, astrometrics was a small station sharing a science lab with several other departments, making it wholly useless to her. Though it was not surprising, given _Sojourn_ 's nature as a short-range planetary research vessel, she was still disappointed. She now had alternate arrangements in mind...arrangements which would need to be discussed with the first officer before she could proceed.

It was _that_ prospect which had her sitting with arms crossed, the knuckles of her left hand pressed to her lips as she regarded the computer atop the desk in her quarters with a furrowed brow. Finally, she pulled her hand away and reached out to touch the panel. "Computer, location--" She faltered, and drew a soft breath before continuing on. "Computer. Show me Commander Vinak's location."

A schematic appeared, centered on a blinking dot in the mess hall on deck two. It was not where she'd expected. Ideally, she'd been hoping to find him in one of the science labs, since he doubled as science officer. It would have given her an opportunity to approach him while he was neither alone, nor surrounded by a crowd. For a moment she flirted with the idea of waiting to catch him at some other time, in some other place...

Toyed with that idea, and rejected it just as quickly. If she could not deal with the commander in the mess hall she could not deal with him at _all_ , and if that was the case she'd had no business accepting this posting. Lhir toggled off the display and pushed herself to her feet before she could reconsider yet again, snatching a PADD off a shelf as she exited her quarters. She rounded the corner and entered the turbolift. "Deck two," she murmured, leaning back against the wall as the lift began to descend.

 

* * *

 

As much as Lhir hadn't figured the commander for one to spend much time in the mess hall, this was her first time setting foot in the space herself. She found the usual grey decor she associated with Starfleet, though here it was a particularly dark shade which made the space feel smaller and more intimate—especially given the lack of a view outside the ship. Despite the starkness of the color choice, the furniture was designed with comfort in mind and the lighting was warm; it would only take a few decorative pieces and a touch of color to make the space more inviting.

Inevitably her gaze shifted from the decor to the handful of people who stood near the replicator. As she'd expected, Vinak was not alone—two figures in civilian dress stood with him, their backs to Lhir, and across from them was Sovinn, the only member of the group facing somewhat in her direction. The presence of two of their guests gave her pause. Perhaps this was not the best time to bring a work request after all, if he was busy with other matters. It was not too late to leave the room unnoticed.

“Lieutenant.” Sovinn's voice split that moment of indecision and made the choice for her, and as she shifted her gaze toward him he gave a small nod as if to confirm that he'd been addressing her. The others turned slightly in her direction, the two civilians revealing themselves to be Doctor Wright and Nejok—the former a whip thin man in his late 40's, wearing a pale grey civilian suit, and the latter a dark-skinned figure almost as tall as Vinak, in somber Vulcan robes detailed in silver.

Retreat no longer an option, Lhir ducked her head slightly and moved toward the group, finding a small gap between Wright and Vinak to stand in. “Lieutenant Commander,” she murmured to Sovinn, before casting her gaze to her left. “Commander. I didn't mean to interrupt.”

“You are not interrupting,” Sovinn said, though Vinak's expression tightened a little.

“The more the merrier,” Wright said with a smile. Lhir very much doubted the Vulcans were made any merrier by her arrival, and cast the doctor a sidelong glance which said as much. He chuckled softly, and shrugged. “Well, that _is_ the expression, anyway,” he added, still in good humor, lifting a glass of what appeared to be synthehol to take a sip.

“Was there something you needed, Lieutenant?” Vinak asked.

“Yes, sir,” Lhir replied, straightening slightly. “There's a project I'd like to work on, while we're en route to Vulcan...” She handed him the PADD, and he began to read even as she continued speaking. “I hope to claim a small space to set up a work station in the auxiliary deflector bay—it's a little cramped, but the proximity to both deflector and sensors would be ideal. Though I am open to other suggestions, of course.” The words had come quickly, as though she feared Vinak would deny her request. Now she wished she'd taken more time, as she'd run out of words and could now only watch him read her proposal in silence. “As for what it's for--” she began, no longer able to tolerate the drawn out pause.

“I have been informed of your particular requirements,” Vinak said, finally glancing up from the PADD. “The work is more extensive than I had expected, however.”

“It's not as bad as it looks,” Lhir replied quickly, having anticipated this objection. “I brought some of the components on board already, and the rest is easily fabricated. I'll do all the work myself. I know it's a bit more... _involved_ than my set up on the _Endeavour_ , but my responsibilities are greater here.” Aboard the _Endeavour_ , she'd merely worked at the operations station during the third shift. She'd rarely needed to man the station during a true emergency—but aboard _Sojourn_ she would, and she'd planned accordingly.

Vinak frowned, shifting his gaze to regard the device in his hand quietly for a long moment. Lhir began to worry that he would say no after all, but the heat she felt in her cheeks and creeping up the lengths of her ears had less to do with that and more to do with the silence which had fallen over the small group as a whole. “Very well,” Vinak finally replied, handing the PADD back to her. “There is still work which must be completed first, now that we're out of drydock—assist Lieutenant Wei, and when he reports that all ship's systems have been thoroughly tested and calibrated you may begin.”

“ _Commander--”_ she began, breaking off when she realized that her tone might be a little too insistent. She drew a breath, and continued. “Commander, I'd thought it would be more efficient to do the work _before_ calibrating the sensors.”

“Efficient, perhaps...but against protocol.” Vinak cast her a glance which carried more than a hint of warning. “I might point out that I have in fact agreed _in full_ to your project.”

_Quit while you're ahead,_ was the unspoken warning. Lhir bowed her head slightly. “Yes, Commander.” Vinak turned away, wordlessly dismissing her, but before she could make an excuse to leave she looked up to see Sovinn regarding her with interest.

“May I?” Sovinn asked, holding out his hand. His tone held genuine curiosity, and she handed the PADD over with only the slightest hesitation. He examined it for a long moment, paying no more heed to the others and the conversation which had resumed than she was. “Interesting,” he said, at last. He pointed toward a schematic on the small screen. “Your panels seem to be modeled after some sort of musical keyboard, though I don't recognize that particular configuration. Is that one of the components you brought aboard?”

Lhir leaned slightly closer to look, even though she knew the design by heart. “Yes,” she said. “I've been told that the positioning of the panels is reminiscent of an instrument known as a pipe organ on Earth, though the number and positioning of the keys is based on my people's mathematical notation.”

“Mathematical.” Despite the flatness of the statement, Sovinn's arched brow made it a question.

Lhir smiled, almost forgetting her earlier discomfort. There were a handful of subjects she readily warmed to, and this was one of them. “Mathematical, yes,” she said. “Among my people, there is no division between mathematics and music—they are one and the same, and we begin to learn almost before we learn to speak.” She gestured toward the PADD in the lieutenant commander's hand. “My preferred way to receive sensor data is by converting it to sound. This is a workstation I used aboard the _Endeavour_ to essentially... _tune_ that conversion process, so that data is presented in the precise tones or pitches I am accustomed to. As you might have guessed from the ears--” She gestured toward one of her swept back, double pointed and tufted ears. “--my species' primary sense is hearing, not sight.”

“I understand,” Sovinn said, simply. Lhir suspected that he probably did...what little she'd heard of Vulcan music hinted at a highly ordered and mathematical approach to it. Beyond that, Starfleet (being made up at least in part by species other than human) was pretty good about adapting to different biologies. What that looked like depended on the species and how extensive the differences were—in some cases it meant ships with wildly different climates, some of them inhospitible to humans, in other cases it meant changes to plumbing, or modified workstations. Next to some of the officers she'd worked alongside (one of them spider-like and lacking fingers altogether), what she was asking for would be easy.

Next to her, Wright turned his head slightly toward them both. “It's not _all_ the ears, though, is it?” he asked. “Vulcans have superior hearing to humans, though their ears are not really all that much larger. Form doesn't always equate to function--evolution is not so much a deliberate road to a better lifeform, as it is a series of mutations which turned out _not_ to be disadvantageous enough to be bred out.”

Lhir had almost managed to forget that the others were there, but whether it was the topic or the fact that she'd deliberately timed her approach to immediately after her maintenance dose of anxiety medication, she found she didn't mind the geneticist jumping into the conversation. Her hands remained steady as she took the PADD back from Sovinn and turned to include both him and Wright in her reply. “You're right, it's less to do with the ears—though that _is_ certainly a part of it—and more to do with processing. I have a much larger auditory cortex than you would find in a human, for example.”

“Just how keen _is_ your hearing?” Wright asked, before drawing back slightly with a chuckle. “Sorry...I shouldn't have asked. My curiosity gets the better of me and I forget that not _everything_ needs to be a study in comparative biology.”

“I don't mind,” Lhir replied, out of habit, though this time it happened to be true. There was something disarming about Wright...in stark contrast to both Vinak and Nejok, both of whom she was discreetly trying to avoid engaging. In the commander's case, she worried she'd overstayed her welcome. As for Nejok, there was something about him...an aloofness, or rather an utter absence of expression which went far beyond what she'd seen in any other Vulcan she'd worked with, which she found even more intimidating than the commander's cold reserve, despite its lack of intensity. “I can perceive some infrasound, but my hearing also extends to the upper frequencies. I've been told that my upper range is similar to an animal called...a brown bat?”

She could tell that the words “brown bat” meant about as much to Sovinn as it did to her, being wholly unfamiliar with Earth wildlife—but Wright lifted an eyebrow in a gesture she normally associated with Vulcans. “I'm impressed,” he said. “Though isn't that inconvenient, at times?”

That won a rare laugh from Lhir, which she quickly stifled as Vinak glanced down at her. “Yes. I've become quite the expert in maintaining sonic showers. My previous chief engineer insisted on it, after my first half _dozen_ or so maintenance requests. There's a very fine line between soothing...and migraine-inducing,” she said. She didn't see so much as feel the commander's gaze turn elsewhere. “I should be going,” she added, deciding to leave while things were still going relatively well. “The sooner I help out in engineering the better, I think.”

“Good evening, Lieutenant,” Wright said, lifting his glass slightly in a sort of salute. Sovinn merely nodded his farewell, before rejoining the others in conversation.

_All things considered,_ she thought to her self as she slipped out of the room and headed for the turbolift, _that actually went better than expected._

 

* * *

 

In engineering, Lhir was just another figure in operations gold, which made it easy to cross the small space without causing a disruption. “Wei.” She kept her voice low, not eager to interrupt whatever the chief engineer was so intently focusing on. They'd crossed paths several times over the last couple days, their duties overlapping in many areas. He insisted on names, given that they were of the same rank, and she was content enough to oblige.

“Just put it on my--” Wei flicked a glance in her direction, then turned to face her fully. “Lhir! Sorry, I thought you were one of my engineers with yet _another_ progress report.” He nodded toward the small stack of PADDs piled atop his console.

Lhir gave Wei a rueful smile. Perhaps she could have been more help these last two days—there was always extra work to do on a maiden voyage, and engineering certainly had its hands full given their early departure. “I come empty handed,” she told him. “For now, at least. Commander Vinak has assigned me to help you out, so I'm here to be put to work.”

“Well...I could certainly use it.” Wei grabbed a handful of PADDs, and shuffled through them. “You're strongest in sensors and computers, right?” At Lhir's answering nod, he pulled one of the devices out of the stack and handed it to her. “The commander's asked for level two diagnostics and any necessary calibration on all work stations and equipment in the science labs, so that our guests can use them during our trip to Vulcan. Priority on the three life sciences labs and the computer lab.” He flashed her a smile, and shrugged. “Maybe it'll get you in good with the commander.”

She took the PADD with a soft snort. “I could certainly use it.”

“Did you really get on his bad side already?” Wei glanced around, and leaned in closer. “He _does_ look a little prickly.”

“He does,” she agreed, smiling at the mental image. “But I got on his bad side years ago. It's going to take more than a few diagnostics to fix that, but—it's definitely a start.” She held up the PADD. “Thanks, Wei.”

“No problem. Just keep me posted, okay?”

Lhir nodded, but he'd already turned back to his station. She slipped out of engineering as quietly as she'd entered, already glancing over the work order. It might not be the project she'd prefer to work on, but when it came right down to it, a project that had her working alone for the next several hours sounded like a perfectly fine way to pass the rest of the day.

 

* * *

 

“I can't believe I thought I'd have this done in a day.” Lhir's voice sounded hollow to her own ears as she lay on her back under one of the workstations, head and shoulders thrust through an open panel as she tried to track down a loose connection.

“ _You've been at it for eighteen hours,”_ Wei's voice came through her combadge. _“When's your next bridge shift?”_

“Technically I'm just finishing one,” Lhir replied. “I asked the captain if I could work on this, since there's really not much happening on the bridge.”

“ _Alright then—when's the last time you slept?”_

Lhir blinked. That answer didn't come as readily. “Before my _last_ shift,” she finally admitted.

“ _Go to bed. It's going to take you forever to finish up if you're tired—and even longer if you do it wrong.”_

She sighed, and emerged from the open panel to sit upright. “You're right.”

“ _At least six hours, okay?_ I'm _the one who's got to sign off on your work, you know.”_

Lhir chuckled softly, pushing herself to her feet and gathering up her equipment. “Deal,” she promised. “Six hours of sleep...and a nice long shower.” The more she thought about it, the better it sounded. Perhaps a big plate of eggs, instead of the thermos she'd brought with her. “I'll send you a progress report when I get back to my quarters.”

“ _Sounds good.”_

_Sojourn_ ’s corridors were quieter than those aboard the _Endeavour_. It was a smaller crew, which surely had a lot to do with it...but beyond that, the crew moved with a certain efficiency, and with a preference for solitude. Lhir’s experience with Vulcan crewmates was that they did not tend to linger in common areas for long. She appreciated those differences, finding it easier to move from place to place on her own business without unexpected encounters.

As she rounded the first corner and found herself on a near collision course with their Tellarite guest, his face set in what seemed to be a perpetual state of irritation, Lhir’s hopes for a quiet passage back to her quarters evaporated. Altering her course so that she hugged the wall as closely as she dared, she all but held her breath as they drew closer to each other, hoping that his irritation was of the “I’d rather be alone” variety. She could tell when he became aware of her presence, his small eyes narrowing as he peered at her. She wondered if he had poor vision, or if he’d simply been lost in thought. “You!” he declared, lifting a hand to stab a pair of vaguely hoof-like digits in her direction. “Starfleet officer. I would like to make a complaint.”

_Of course you would,_ was the reply which danced on the tip of Lhir's tongue as she slowed to a stop. The Tellarite had never bothered to learn her name, nor did he ever address her in any way which might indicate he remembered her from one encounter to the next. It was a personal quirk and not a racial one, she'd decided. She swallowed those words as she turned to face him, pressing her lips into a tight smile. “I’d be happy to convey any complaints to the appropriate personnel,” she said, impeccably polite.

Sharggos Kul bristled as though insulted—which he no doubt was--and Lhir braced herself for the very real possibility of not just complaints, but personal insults. She knew the protocols when it came to dealing with Tellarites, knew that they found politeness offensive, but she just couldn't bring herself to behave otherwise. “My quarters are completely inadequate,” he began, in strident tones which carried down the corridor. “Despite my numerous complaints they have not been upgraded. A bath is an absolute _necessity_ \--”

“Respectfully,” Lhir interjected as he paused to suck in an angry breath, hoping to rob him of his momentum, “this is a smaller vessel and even the senior staff have to make do with showers in their quarters, myself included.” In _that_ much at least, she found herself sympathetic to his cause. “While I'm certain we'd be delighted to accommodate you--”

“ _Unacceptable,”_ he spat in return, pressing closer as he cut her off this time. Lhir resisted the urge to take a half step back, which would have put her back to the wall. “Not only that, but the selection of entertainment available is the worst I’ve seen on any Starfleet vessel--”

“But far better than what we would have found aboard the Vulcan ship, don’t you think?” another voice cut in. Lhir darted a glance sidelong, though she already knew the voice belonged to Doctor Wright, who stepped toward them with a hint of a smile on his lips. “Vulcans are hardly known to be entertaining, and it's not this young woman's fault, Sharggos. In the meanwhile, some of us have _actual_ issues which need fixing...such as the food replicator in my quarters.”

As Kul sputtered in front of her, Lhir cast another glance at Wright. Was he simply offering her an exit, or did he actually have a problem? As the Tellarite began to huff in earnest, his face reddening with each passing second, she decided that it didn't matter--she would take the rescue, in either case. “I’d be quite happy to look at it for you,” she replied.

“Thank you.” The smile broadened. “I’m just down the hall, this way…” Wright turned to lead the way, and Lhir slipped sideways and away from Kul.

“I _will_ let the captain know you are unsatisfied with your quarters,” Lhir said, before turning to follow Wright.

“ _Unacceptable!”_ Kul bellowed after them. Thankfully, he did not follow.

Only when she’d followed Wright into his quarters did Lhir release a long, slow breath. “Thanks.”

Wright chuckled softly. “You’re welcome. I actually _do_ have a problem with the replicator, though.”

Her expertise was in sensors, and in the computer itself—but she would never have been chosen for operations officer without a working knowledge of all systems. “I don’t have any tools with me, but if it’s a programming issue I should be able to take care of it on the spot,” she said. “If it’s a mechanical issue I may have to come back with tools and replacement components. What sort of problems have you been having?”

“It was working when I first came aboard,” Wright said. “But I went out for a walk around the deck to stretch my legs a little while ago, and when I came back and tried to order lunch the replicator just sort of chirped at me. I thought maybe that specific item was not programmed, so I ordered something it had made before...with no better luck.”

“Let's take a look,” Lhir murmured, setting her equipment on a small side table before regarding the replicator panel with a small frown. From the description alone, she could not rule out either a programming error _or_ a mechanical issue. She reached out to press one corner of the panel. “Vulcan spice tea,” she said, choosing a recipe she _knew_ was programmed into ship’s memory. The replicator gave a short double chirp, but showed no other signs of activity. She pried open the panel, flipping it open to expose the isolinear circuitry behind it. Everything looked in order, nothing obviously shorted out--she even went so far as to pull out one of the chips and inspect it for damage.

She slid the chip into place, and with the panel still open she placed another order for something she knew would be on file. “Plomeek soup.” Still that double chirp, and there was no obvious malfunction in the circuitry itself. “It may be a programming error,” she said, closing the panel again. “Or a microfracture in the circuity. I’ll run a diagnostic to track it down. What exactly did you try to order?”

Wright reached past her, to press the corner of the panel. “One roast beef sandwich, extra horseradish.” The replicator gave a double chirp, which continued into a discordant warble before cutting off.

Lhir arched a brow. “Well, there _does_ seem to be some sort of issue with that particular--” She trailed off, as a faint, high pitched sound began to register. It was far outside the range of human hearing, perhaps even outside the range of a Vulcan’s, but the tone was slowly dropping as it grew stronger. She tilted her head, stepping fully in front of the panel and angling one ear toward the replicator and then the other, as she got a fix on the sound’s direction and depth.

“What is it?” Wright asked, peering at her with curiosity.

She absently lifted a hand to silence him, listening to that slowly increasing tone. Its origin was set too far back to be coming from the circuitry immediately behind the touch panel—too far within the wall to be coming from the replicator at all. “The EPS conduit,” she murmured to herself. The replicators took a great deal of energy, and it was a fairly powerful conduit which ran them. Alarm flickered through her gaze as she realized what was building behind the panel, even as she recognized that it should not have been possible.

_Overload._

“Get back!” Lhir snapped, throwing her light frame at the human scientist. What she lacked in bulk she made up for in adrenaline-fuelled urgency. It was still not enough.

Electricity arced, flaring painfully bright in vision far better suited to low light. A concussive force struck her, and for a moment all Lhir was aware of was that her arm had gone completely numb, her vision filled with afterimages of that brilliant flash so that she couldn’t even see. For a time she could not even hear past the sound of her own pulse and ragged gulps of air.

“ _...medical emergency…”_

Wright’s voice faintly registered, and after that the coarse texture of carpet against her cheek. For a moment that confused her—her last memory was of standing. Her puzzlement was short-lived, as pain radiated up and down her arm, stealing her breath again as her focus narrowed, until sight and sound gave way fully to piercing, burning agony.

 

* * *

 

It had been an exceedingly routine two days, even with their early departure and civilian passengers aboard...so much so that when Sovinn abruptly straightened at his station Anwal had already shifted her gaze fully in that direction before the security chief turned to deliver his report. “Captain,” Sovinn said, with some urgency. “There is a medical emergency in progress in one of our guests’ quarters.”

Anwal's lips pressed into a thin, hard line, and it was a monumental effort not to curse aloud. Her dark-eyed gaze locked with the security chief's. “Any word on how badly our guest is injured?”

“He--” As the security chief glanced at his panel, he stiffened in surprise. “The _passenger_ is not injured. Lieutenant Lhir is the patient. Condition is serious but they've got her stabilized. Medical staff report injury consistent with...an electro-plasma discharge.”

Anwal's piercing gaze flicked to the officer currently sitting at operations, in silent query. The officer's fingers danced over the console. “There _was_ a brief fluctuation in the EPS power grid,” the officer confirmed. “Very minor, however...not enough to trigger any alarms.”

The captain's frown deepened. Electrocution suggested either a problem with the ship or a problem with the crew member, and neither option reflected well on _Sojourn_ and its crew. “Let's hope that ‘stable’ means she can answer questions,” she said, with a pointed nod to Sovinn. “Look into it. And ask the commander to accompany you, if he hasn't heard the disturbance already.”

“Yes, Captain,” Sovinn replied, swinging out of his chair and heading briskly for the lift.

 

* * *

 

When Sovinn stepped off the lift, Vinak was already waiting.

One of the two doctors already aboard moved to intercept them as they entered sickbay. Sovinn paid him no mind, slipping past and leaving him to face the commander’s questions. Lhir was certainly awake--even at this range her anxiety and pain were oppressive, so much so that he wondered if she were somehow projecting those feelings outward. If that were so, however, the others would show signs of discomfort. “Lieutenant,” he said softly in greeting, as he came to a stop beside her bed.

Her skin was pale and beaded with sweat, contrasting more sharply than ever with the mottled blue pigmentation which colored the last couple inches of her ears and framed her face where the feathers began; as Lhir turned her head to face him he noted the tightness of her expression, her nostrils flared as she drew breath. “Commander,” she replied, her icy blue gaze locking on his own.

Sovinn’s brow furrowed. “Has the doctor not given you anything for the pain?” he asked, glancing to her shoulder, where the uniform had been burned away. The skin underneath was red and blistered, and seeping fluid.

Lhir gave a single tight nod. “As much as I would let him,” she said. “It’s complicated. I--” She shifted slightly, wincing. “Dosage is an issue. It’s often a matter of too much or too little, and I thought...you would want a report…”

He held a hand over her, just close enough to indicate that she should lie still. She was more coherent than he’d hoped, but she was clearly in some pain; he would need to keep this short and to the point. “What happened?”

“An overload in the EPS conduit running behind the replicator.” Lhir licked her lips, and Sovinn wondered if it was a nervous habit or a sign of physical discomfort. “The build up...it was too slow. Maybe ten seconds. I don’t think it was a malfunction.”

Sovinn was aware of the commander approaching even before Lhir’s gaze shifted to a point above his right shoulder; he turned his head a fraction to acknowledge the other’s arrival. “We will need to let engineering make a thorough physical inspection,” he said.

Vinak nodded. Though he did not frown, his expression nonetheless managed to convey a profound dissatisfaction with the entire situation. “I will go to engineering and make arrangements, while you to return to the scene and ask our passenger for his account of the incident,” he said, addressing Sovinn. Turning his attention to Lhir, his lips finally did settle into a proper frown. “I will require a written account of the incident once you have recovered, Lieutenant.”

“Yes, Commander,” Lhir replied, though Sovinn noted that Vinak did not linger long enough for her to finish, turning on his heel and heading for the door as though her compliance was assured.

Sovinn arched a brow, and stepped back to allow the doctor to approach the bed. “Thank you for your assistance, Lieutenant,” he said, turning away only once she’d nodded her acknowledgement. Only then did he let his neutrality slip from his features, his brow furrowing as he contemplated the possibilities. Either the ship had experienced a malfunction, or it had not. Each possibility was undesirable, though if the Lhir was correct in her assessment and in this case it was in fact the latter scenario, they had a saboteur aboard.

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

News traveled fast aboard a starship, especially one with a crew this small. Wei had anticipated Vinak's arrival, and when the commander rounded the corner to enter engineering, he was quick to meet the much taller Vulcan halfway. “Commander—I heard there was an incident.”

Vinak nodded, and though his expression was neutral, Wei could read the tension in the Vulcan by the set of his jaw and stiffness of his posture. “Initial reports indicate an EPS discharge in Doctor Wright's quarters, cause currently unknown. It set off no alarms on the bridge.”

“Nor here, sir.” Wei called up a schematic on the nearest engineering station. “I can see there was a minor variation in the EPS power grid in that section, lasting...” He called up another display. “Eleven point two seconds. It's nothing out of the ordinary, or at least nothing that would usually indicate anything serious.”

“And _yet_.” There was an iciness in the commander's tone which set Wei back a bit, though he knew it wasn't directed at him, but rather the situation.

“And yet,” he echoed Vinak softly, with a sigh. “I'll immediately begin a thorough investigation, Commander. I'll take the bulkheads apart, if I have to. Whatever caused this, we'll figure it out.”

“Do so. Report to me the minute you have anything.”

“Aye, sir.” As Wei watched Vinak leave, he was aware of T'Saren's presence at the station across from him—and uncomfortably aware that her attention had been as much on his conversation with the commander as the display in front of her. Not for the first time since word had first reached him, he wondered if she'd been right after all in challenging his decision not to run a level one diagnostic on the EPS grid. The odds of Utopia Planitia missing an issue had been remote, but T'Saren had been right in that it was one of their more critical systems. Perhaps he should have pushed for enough time to complete a more thorough diagnostic...

_Stop it,_ he told himself sternly. _Speculating on what it could be is pointless. It could have been something you missed, but then again, it could be anything. Lhir was exhausted, and could have made some error, but you wouldn't blame_ her _without evidence, would you?_ “T'Saren,” he said, already heading for a nearby locker to gather a toolkit. “Come with me. I could use a second set of eyes.” More than that, it was important to him to stand by his decision, whatever the outcome. He'd fought her on this and won, and he wouldn't shrink from that...even if the results of their investigation _did_ lay the blame at his feet.

* * *

The quarters he'd assigned their guests were on deck four, near both sickbay and security, giving Sovinn very little time for speculation as he headed for Wright's quarters. Under any other circumstance he might have asked the computer if the geneticist was still there—but in this case, he was reasonably certain that there was no need. He was proved correct when the door opened only moments after he signalled his arrival. “Doctor Wright,” he said in greeting, noting the other man's somewhat disheveled appearance. Together with the air of anxiety which surrounded the man, it painted a clear picture of someone who'd been through a harrowing experience.

“Commander,” Wright said. “I'd expected someone would come.”

“Doctor,” Sovinn greeted him in turn, glancing over Wright's shoulder and into the room beyond. “May I?” he added, when an invitation to enter did not appear forthcoming.

Wright blinked, and stepped aside. “Yes...yes, of course,” he said. “I'm sorry, I'm still a little... When I asked the lieutenant to fix my replicator, I hardly expected—how is she, by the way?”

Sovinn stepped past him, his gaze sweeping the room before settling on the replicator. “She will be fine,” he murmured, moving closer. The panel was completely dark, and it didn't take an engineer to know why. An area roughly the size of his palm was scorched and warped, with a small off-center hole melted clear through. It certainly had the look of an EPS surge, and he would be interested to find out why it had not registered as such. He turned back to Wright. “Could you tell me what happened?”

Wright nodded, glancing toward the replicator. “I knew I had a problem with the replicator when it would not give me a meal I'd ordered before. I was about to signal for assistance when I heard Lieutenant Lhir and Sharggos Kul out in the hall--” He paused, the shadow of a rueful smile tugging at his lips for a brief moment. “Well. I could certainly hear _him_ at least, and inferred from his side of it that he was talking to one of your officers. So I stepped outside, and asked the lieutenant for her assistance.”

Having met the Tellarite himself, Sovinn had no reason to doubt that the doctor could have heard him through a closed door. “And what exactly did Lhir do while she was here?”

“She didn't get very far. She tried to place a few orders, she opened the panel and inspected one of the chips. She said...she'd have to run a diagnostic to determine if it was a programming or a hardware issue,” Wright explained. Sovinn noted that the man had calmed significantly since his arrival, no longer jumping from thought to thought without completing his sentences. “I tried to place my original order—for a roast beef sandwich, extra horseradish—and almost immediately after, she reacted as though she could hear something. And that's when...”

“That's when...?” Sovinn prompted. He restrained the urge to open the panel himself. Though he was curious to see the extent of the damage, he could not be certain that there was no longer any danger.

“She threw herself at me, knocking me aside. I think—I think if not for that, she'd have been able to avoid it entirely. But because she tried to move me, she was caught when the replicator panel blew.” Wright hesitated, his expression growing concerned. “I do hope she won't be blamed for this. I have no concerns about anything she did here—in fact, I think she very well could have saved my life. If not for her, I probably would have been standing right in front of the replicator when it...” He lapsed into silence, gesturing toward the burned out panel.

“Thus far, we don't know what's to blame,” Sovinn said. “There is nothing to suggest that the lieutenant is at fault—I'm merely trying to establish what _did_ happen.” A soft chime announced another arrival at the door. “One moment,” Sovinn added, moving to open the door himself. He was not at all surprised to find an engineering team on the other side, and he stepped aside to let Wei and T'Saren enter.

“Commander,” Wei said, with a quick bob of his head. “Is this a bad time?”

“No. I was just finishing,” Sovinn assured him, before turning back to Wright. “Doctor Wright. Since I cannot predict at this time how long our investigation will last, nor how quickly repairs will be completed, I will see to it that you are given new quarters. May I suggest you enjoy a meal in the mess hall while I make arrangements?”

“Of course,” Wright answered, absentmindedly smoothing out his jacket, and glancing about the room. “Should I gather my things now, or...?”

“I will assign a security officer to do so.” As Wright nodded, somewhat unhappily, Sovinn addressed Wei. “I will also station an officer outside, so you may complete your work without interruption.”

Wei nodded, already unpacking his tool kit on the small dining table nearby. “Thank you,” he said. “We'll get this figured out, sir.”

“Indeed,” Sovinn replied, ushering Wright out ahead of him. He followed the doctor until they parted ways at the intersection, lingering long enough to make sure the doctor got on the turbolift. Only then did he continue on, entering the security complex. “Jensson,” he said, addressing the guard on duty. “I want you outside Doctor Wright's quarters until Lieutenant Wei is done his investigation. Make sure none of our civilian guests enter, including the doctor himself—or any of the crew without clearance from Wei or myself. I'll send Selak to gather the doctor's personal effects once I've freed up some new quarters for him.”

“Aye, sir.” Jensson departed, briskly, leaving Sovinn to oversee security from his office...which was less an office and more an alcove separated from the rest of the room by a large workstation.

For a long moment he sat there quietly...though he was not idle. Now he finally had time for speculation, for sifting through the possibilities as the situation currently stood and discarding those which did not hold up to to logical analysis—and making plans to act on those which did. Though he had not expected a potential security issue this soon, Sovinn was far from unprepared. His interview with the doctor had been short, but it had still yielded some possible avenues of investigation, should this turn out to be something other than an accident. He did not intend to sit idle while Wei and his subordinate completed their own investigation—by the time they had their answers for the captain, he hoped to have something of his own to contribute as well. He was certain the captain would expect nothing less.

* * *

“It was no accident.” Wei stood, and stepped around the conference room table to set a compact device in front of the captain. “We found this once we removed the replicator itself. It was mounted on the EPS conduit, but linked to the replicator—or it _had_ been, until the connection was burned out.” He nudged a slender, blackened filament about four inches long with one finger.

Anwal frowned, picking up the device and turning it over in her hands. Down the table, Sovinn and Vinak watched with expressions almost equally somber. “What was its purpose?” she asked. “I recognize what looks to be a capacitor, among other things...”

“We think it fulfilled its purpose,” Wei said, still standing by the head of the table. He reached out to activate a panel on the wall, bringing up one of the schematics he'd shown Vinak in engineering. “In order to have an EPS discharge, you typically need to have a significant surge in the EPS flow, which then overwhelms the grid, or you need to physically sever the conduit, which would result in either a complete absence of power in one section of the grid, or sporadic, fluctuating power levels if the electroplasma is able to bridge the gap. Any of those circumstances would have immediately triggered an internal alarm in engineering, and on the bridge.”

“But we have established that it did not,” Vinak said, taking the device from the captain to examine it himself.

“No. What we _do_ have is a very small dip in power levels in that section of the grid for a little over eleven seconds,” Wei confirmed. “What we believe happened is that this device tapped into the EPS conduit, siphoning energy off at a rate slow enough not to raise any alarm, until it built up a potent charge which was then directed outward, through the replicator. It was an EPS discharge, but there was nothing spontaneous or accidental about it.”

“Were you able to determine what triggered it?” Sovinn asked.

“In a manner of speaking,” Wei said. “We can tell that it was connected to the replicator's processor, suggesting that it was triggered by a program rather than a physical switch. Not only was the connection burned out by the energy discharge, but the processor was burned out as well—so we can't determine what specific command was used. It could have been set to respond to a certain dish, or to repeated orders of the same dish, but we have no way to know with any certainty.”

Sovinn did not frown, but his brows knit as he considered the engineer's words. “It does suggest, however, that this was a targeted attack. Doctor Wright said that it did not respond to Lhir's attempts to use the replicator—but it did when he placed his order for a roast beef sandwich.”

Anwal sighed heavily. “You two are telling me that we might not just have a saboteur aboard. We may, in fact, be looking for an attempted murderer.”

Wei understood the captain's sour mood. Despite the flicker of relief he'd felt at discovering that the incident had not been caused by any negligence on his part, he'd quickly come to realize that the actual situation was far worse. “That...does seem to be the case, Captain,” he said, turning off the display and returning to his seat.

“Then the next question is—who.” Anwal shifted her attention fully to Sovinn, leaning forward. “I don't envy you this task, Lieutenant Commander.”

“Nonetheless, it must be done,” Sovinn said. “Lieutenant Wei—could we narrow our pool of suspects with the device itself? Either the components used, or the expertise required to assemble it?”

Wei shook his head. “Unfortunately...no.” He'd already considered that idea. “The components are far too common to be narrowed down to a specific console or piece of equipment. We could try to figure out where they were scavenged from, but that could take days. As for expertise...it's the same story, I'm afraid. Anyone with even a basic knowledge of science or engineering could have put it together. Tapping into the EPS conduit...well, that's riskier, but...”

“But not risky enough to rule out any of our guests, who are all presumably highly intelligent, inventive, and accustomed to meticulous adherence to safety protocols,” Sovinn concluded.

Wei nodded. “Exactly,” he said, relieved that he hadn't had to say it himself.

“Nor would it rule out one of the crew,” Vinak said. “Are we certain it's one of our guests?”

“I cannot be certain of anything, at this point,” Sovinn admitted. “I will of course look into any potential connection between the members of the crew and Doctor Wright—and any connections between the crew and the crewman who was originally assigned those quarters, in case the device was planted earlier than we suspect, or with a different target in mind. I would be somewhat surprised to find out the perpetrator was a member of the crew, however. Prior to our launch I examined every personnel file myself with the aim of identifying any potential security risks, and found nothing of note. Beyond that...I have made some inquiries of both the transport which brought our guests, and the site of the conference on Earth. Doctor Wright ordered a roast beef sandwich aboard the transport and each day of the conference. Only our guests would have had the opportunity to learn his habits so well.”

“I'd also prefer to think that this was not a member of my crew,” Anwal said, casting a sharp look at Sovinn. “But should your investigation indicate otherwise—you have my full support, Commander.”

“Understood,” Sovinn said, already seeming lost in thought.

“I'll have my engineers keep an eye out as we finish up our diagnostics,” Wei volunteered, sensing that the meeting was coming to a close. “In case any other devices turn up. And I'll set up a subroutine to monitor the EPS grid for fluctuations similar to what we found in this instance.”

Anwal nodded, the intensity draining from her gaze. She cast a sober glance around the conference table. “Good,” she said. “I'm leaving this in your hands. Keep me informed.”


End file.
